


Guide to World Domination (courtesy of Q)

by meinposhbastard



Category: James Bond (Craig movies), James Bond - All Media Types, Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Five Acts, Fluff, Gen, Kids, Plotting, You Have Been Warned, beware: silliness ahead, it's supposed to have some crack in there, pre-world domination
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-18
Updated: 2015-04-18
Packaged: 2018-03-23 11:02:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3765694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meinposhbastard/pseuds/meinposhbastard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You have the infamous James Bond and his Quartermaster as kids. You add Smaug to the equation, because every world domination needs a dragon (even if this one is in baby form) and voilà! Your crack-ish, adorable fic with helpings of fluff is ready.</p><p>In other words: James and Q are childhood friends. Smaug is somewhere around 500 years old, which in terms of human age means that he’s 5. They plot (more like Q plots) to take over the world. In their own way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Guide to World Domination (courtesy of Q)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Linnet](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Linnet/gifts).



> This one was on the brink of death, eight months of ignorance from my part, gosh! I'm evil!  
> On another note, yeah. I don't even know... no. I do know what I was doing when the idea stumbled upon me. This is a sort of crack!fic based off on my and R's very serious (read: silly) conversation about being partners-in-crime and plotting the world domination. Aye, we're that awesome! XD
> 
> Have fun! I certainly did :)

 

 ******Rule no. 1 to World Domination:**

**Get yourself a _Dragon_**

What’s the best time of the year to start putting together a plan?

Summer, Q would flatly tell you and you would feel pinned by his intense stare.

He strongly believes that summer is the happiest and most fruititious time of the year. For one reason only: no school for a whole six weeks, starting from the day he is left to wake up by himself.

He doesn’t hate school. He just thinks he needs a break for a month and a half once a year, that’s all.  

Two weeks into his summer holidays, he finds himself and his best friend, James, in a graveyard. It’s plain daylight so there’s nothing to fear -- except, possibly, Mr Tanner, but he’s a harmless creature. Or so is Q’s impression of him.

“Q, it won’t work,” James whispers. Both sets of eyes are trained on the creature a few yards away, happily terrorising a butterfly. “That dragon has been hiding in this cemetery since last Saturday. It even scared the keeper.”

They’re approaching the baby dragon as one would approach a wild animal: being careful not to make any noise. All the information was courtesy of none other than Q.

“Shush, you’ll scare him,” Q whispers back, his pleased grin never faltering. “‘Sides, Mr Tanner is a scaredy-cat. I told him this is no job for him.”

James glares at Q’s mop of dark hair (being the one with a few inches of advantage in height).

“Bet he didn’t listen to you.”

“Same as all adults,” Q says gloomily, but doesn’t look at his friend.

Their steps are as quiet as possible in the short-trimmed grass, taking care as to where they place each foot. Q is the one who leads, of course. He compensates with brains for his height disadvantage. Which means all their games begin with an outspoken idea of Q’s.

“Are you sure it’ll understand you?” James asks in the same hushed voice, but then his scepticism takes control, “do dragons even speak English?”

“Of course they do,” Q replies, as if he has just been asked if humans are capable of breathing. He matches the volume of his voice to his friend’s.

James stops dead in his tracks, looking befuddled at Q.

“Really?” he says at his normal volume, surprised.

“Hey!” Q turns and frowns at James. “What have you stopped for?”

“It’s impossible for them to understand English,” the older kid states. “They’re creatures. They don’t speak. They just growl or whatever other sound they make.”

Q crosses his arms over his chest, frowning deeply. “That’s not true.”

They both have stopped right in plain sight of whoever passes by. Not to mention that they hadn’t even thought about changing their clothes into ones that could make them fit in with the surroundings long enough for the two kids to approach the dragon. Both James and Q are wearing at least one flashy-coloured garment.

Q must have skipped the part where it said that colours, too, could set off an animal’s defences. Or announce their presence, for that matter. As if having an argument in the middle of their mission wasn’t enough incentive for a possible disaster.

“Oh, yeah? What proof do you have?” James demands impetuously.

Q falters for a moment, looking at him with slightly wide eyes. He’s a bit taken aback by his friend’s request. It means he doesn’t trust Q’s judgement and that he cannot have.

He sets his jaw. “It’s J.R.R. Tolkien’s--”

“Rawr!” The dragon roars behind Q.

They would have considered it an adorable roar, given the small proportions of said dragon, but they were so immersed in their little argument, that both kids screamed at unison, running for the nearest tombstone to hide behind. Few people deal well with surprises. James and Q are now part of that percentage.

The cemetery falls eerily silent afterwards, as if the creature had only been the fruit of their imagination and not an actual flesh and bone dragon.

“This is all your fault, you square head!” Q hisses, glaring daggers at James, who is on his left side.

“Oh, really? Why is it always _my_ fault when your plans go south?” The older kid demands, taking on a defensive position.

He’s sort of angry with his friend for pinning the blame on him, when, in fact, it was both their fault. But it’s tame compared to those times he gets into fights at school with other kids when they pick on Q. They happen because James can’t stop himself from feeling overly protective over his scrawny friend, whom he has come to love and care for dearly in the two years they’ve been acquainted.

Not that Q wouldn’t be able to defend himself. His tongue is razor-sharp when he wants it to be and can cut even through the thickest of walls that one can build around themselves. He proves it after every fight James gets into, berating his friend for his stupidity. But James has never been hurt by Q’s words.

“Just shut up and see if the dragon is still there!” Q fakes a stern tone, adding a pissed off expression.

James is not falling for it, so he continues glaring at his friend, saying, “ _I_ have to do it? Why don’t _you_ do it?”

“Because you’re the older one. It’s an universal rule that if someone has to die, it’s always the oldest one.”

“What? That’s not true! You invented that rule just now!” James frowns deeply.

“It’s your responsibility to help the youngsters!”

“Oh, really? How about the respect you youngsters need to show to your elders?” He crosses his arms angrily.

Q smiles devilishly (or as devilishly as a seven year old boy can). “Do you really want to have an argument with me on that matter?”

“Ugh,” James deflates, a haunted expression filling up his boyish features. “I’d rather--”

“What are you humans doing on my territory?” The dragon interrupts whatever James was about to say.

Both kids lift their heads up as slowly as they can.

The creature is leaning over the black granite tombstone, watching them intently. Nobody says anything for a couple of seconds, so James nudges Q with his shoulder, not taking his eyes off the dragon.

After all, Q was the one that wanted to befriend the dragon as soon as he heard (eavesdropped on, definitely, because he never _happens_ to hear pieces of interesting information just like that) Mr Tanner complain to Miss Moneypenny, the town’s librarian (an interesting person Q has taken a liking to), about the creature.

He only likes her because she doesn’t give him quizzical looks when he requests some of the oldest and strangest books the library still possesses.

Q gulps and summons the strength to speak up.

It was much easier to imagine possible conversations between him and the dragon in his head, than it is to actually have them for real.

“Q?” James says between clenched teeth.

He’s not dealing well with the knowledge that _it spoke English_. Funny dream he’s having right now.

He hopes.

Q clears his throat and stands up slowly. The dragon follows his every movement with piercing, yellow eyes.

“You shall be our friend and together you shall help us plot the Domination of the World!” Q states impetuously, looking straight into the creature’s eyes with a resolute set of his jaw.

James gapes at his best friend and says, “Domination of the World?” in time with the dragon’s, “Okay.”

“What are you talking about Q?” James’ voice is pitched high, since the shock is still working on him.  “Since when did I give my consent to this?”

“Since you agreed to come here with me.” Q tells him, though his gaze still lingers on the dragon.

The creature laughs.

 

**Rule no. 2 to World Domination:**

**Make your best friend your _partner-in-crime_ **

**(or convince them)**

They were still there half an hour later, since James was set on changing his best friend’s mind.

“I still don’t understand why you are so against my ingenious idea!” Q scowls, refusing to look at him.

“Maybe because it’s not ingenious?” James retorts, exasperation written all over his face. “ _At all_!”

“Why do you always have to make such a big deal out of every idea I come up with?”

“Because I know you, Q!” James says. “I know you won’t have peace until you get through with your idea. You focus your stubbornness in the wrong place. You always do that!”

“So what?” The younger kid frowns at him, his eyes stormy with anger. “It’s not like my ideas are boring. It’s not like you don’t have fun. After all, that’s the whole reason I come up with them!”

“This World Domination,” the dragon interrupts, lazing atop the black granite tombstone, “what does it imply?”

“First of all,” Q answers, looking straight at James. “A trio.”

“No, Q.” James shakes his head. “This is madness. You can’t be serious!”

There’s something in him that vehemently opposes Q’s idea. It’s not as if the younger kid hadn’t come up with other crazy ideas, but this one -- _this one_ tops all of the others off.

It feels so big, so vast and unreachable that a sense of restlessness settles in the pit of his stomach. He shouldn’t feel this afraid, because it is just an idea, after all, and they’re both kids _for crying out loud_ , but past experiences have shown how stubborn his smart little friend can be at times.

“I am, instead,” Q says sternly. “This is my most brilliant idea I’ve ever had! And you’re going to be a part of it.”

James shakes his head. “No!”

“I’ll do your homework for a month!”

“No.”

“Okay, two.”

“No, Q. I’m not…”

“Okay, okay. Let’s make it three. Three months of free time for yourself.”

“This is bribery!”

“Really?” Q feigns a shocked expression. “I wasn’t aware,” he says, dismissively. “How about I bring you homemade bisc--”

“Q!” James raises his voice.

“What? I’m trying to convince you,” Q says in his defense.

“You’re not making any progress, so stop using dirty tricks to make me be a part of this madness!”

“Why is he so dumb?” the dragon asks airily, though he doesn’t deny that he is enjoying the show far too much. Well, at this point, anything is much more interesting than chasing butterflies. “World Domination is lots of fun,” he says, his small tail moving excitedly for a few seconds before resting on the edge of the tombstone.

James glares at the dragon.

“See,” Q says, tilting his chin up. “He knows what the definition of fun is.”

“He consulted the wrong dictionary!” James shoots, frustrated.

This is getting too ridiculous for his taste, but he can’t bring himself to blatantly turn his friend down. After all, he is devastatingly fond of the little bastard just for being _a little bastard_.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Q retorts.

“What’s a dictionary?” the dragon asks.

The older kid sighs in defeat. “This is getting us nowhere!”

“That’s because your stubbornness is having a fit here,” Q says. “Give it a holiday, would you? Bring forth your reasonable self. That’s the James I can have an actual conversation with,” he continues smugly.

James stares at him disbelievingly.

It’s hard for him to believe all this is happening. He feels as if he fell through the rabbit hole and stumbled into a parallel universe. One where his best friend wants to take over the world and a dragon agrees with him.

He turns and looks at the dragon in question.

“What did you say your name was?”

The creature shivers in delight, raises on his hind legs and says in a smug tone, “Smaug The Stupendous.”

James gives him an incredulous look.

“Yes, now I can understand why he agrees with you,” he tells Q.

“Of course,” the younger kid comments proudly. “Brilliance calls for brilliant company, James.”

“I’m going to regret this, I can feel it!” He scrubs his face in defeat. “But I can’t leave you to your own devices. Who knows what disasters you’ll manage to create?”

Q approaches him with a conspiratory grin plastered on his face.

“Oh, you won’t regret it, Jay.” The kid slips his arm over his friend’s shoulder, starting to exit the graveyard, dragon in tow. “You truly won’t.”

**Rule no. 3 to World Domination:**

**Get into your _war clothes_ and set up some rules**

Since James’ house had more space available than one could ever dream of, they made it their HQ. The older kid’s room was their conference room no. 2 (after the treehouse in Mr and Mrs Bond’s back garden).

Of course at half past nine in the evening they were already under James’ bed covers (Smaug present) with two torches. Both humans were in their war clothes (labelled pajamas by the rest of the world, mind).

“Your first step to rule over the world is to run amok on the streets in your pajamas?” James laughs.  

“Stop laughing!” Q frowns, the light from the torch making his expression far more ominous than it really is. “You’ve no idea how to take over the world in _style_!” He crosses his arms over his chest in a display of arrogance.

James is so used to it, he doesn’t even muster the energy to quirk up an eyebrow.

“Because wearing pajamas outside is so _trendy_ ,” James says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

Q gives him a murderous look.

“It will be, when the world will be mine… ours,” he rectifies absentmindedly, because he is currently preoccupied with winning their staring contest.  

Smaug, lying on all his four like any other animal (wild or not), is watching their ongoing argument with mild curiosity.

“I have no pajamas.” Smaug sighs sadly, provoking a cloud of smoke to form under the covers.

“I can’t breathe!” James chokes out, throwing the duvet aside to let the smoke dissipate.

Q immediately runs for the window and opens it.

Every room in his friend’s house is equipped with smoke sensors. He doesn’t want to have his rendez-vous interrupted by unwarranted company.

“We need to establish some rules here,” Q states, staring at an undefined point on the floor.

James nods, glancing at the dragon, who looks back at him with mild curiosity. “I agree.”

“First of all, we need to--”

“Do something about him… that,” James interrupts, nodding slightly while still gazing at Smaug.

Q turns to look at his friend, lifting an eyebrow. It takes James a good couple of seconds to become aware of the expectant silence that had befallen the room. You might think Q’s eyebrow would get tired of being held so high on his otherwise small forehead, but no. He can be darn tenacious when he wants to. This is one of those occasions.

“What?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him,” Q states.

“It’s an ‘it’ and I didn’t say anything--”

“It’s ‘him’ as of now,” Q retaliates, crossing his arms.

James pauses for a moment and assesses his friend from head to toe.

“Why are you so defensive all of a sudden?”

Q sighs, letting his arms fall limply at his sides. “I’m not. Sorry,” he says, dejected.

The older kid looks at his friend for another couple of seconds, then takes a step closer and pulls him into a hug. Q needs it, even if he’ll never admit to it. He needs physical contact.

James accidentally found out about this when Q’s parents were late in retrieving him from James’ house. They were both playing some video game, Q obviously beating the life out of James, as per usual, when Q decided he was bored and left his player to die. Just when James was about to win the game (finally!), he felt Q creeping closer to him -- until he was half splayed across the older boy.

He might have shrugged it off as just something that happens, but other small things had occurred afterwards which led him to believe that Q unconsciously seeks physical contact from the people that he trusts.

Q lets James pull him in and he even encircles his arms around the older boy’s waist in a loose embrace, savouring the tender moment.

Smaug watches the scene with detached interest, since he doesn’t know anything about human nature and their needs.

“I know!” Q erupts, startling the quietude and James, who takes a step back. “We need to know what role each of us has, so that we can cooperate better. We’ll be like a wolf pack!” he says excitedly, his eyes shining in the moonlight filtering through the open window.

“A wolf pack?” James repeats sceptical. “Why a wolf pack? They’re animals, they don’t have --”

“Because in some occasions, actually more than some, we’re closer to a wolf’s pack dynamic than any other,” Q explains with his usual lively cadence. “So, it’s only fair to say that I’m the Alpha, you’re the Beta, and he’s--”

They both look at Smaug, who looks back at them in turn.

“A dragon,” James supplies weakly.

“Mmm,” Q hums noncommittally.

“Well, there’s nothing wrong with letting him keep his nature, is there?” the older kid comments, shrugging. “He’s more prone to roaring than howling, anyway, and just to be clear, I’m not teaching him anything about imitating other animals,” James says, hoping he put himself in a safe territory by covering the most disastrous of paths that Q’s mind could take.

“What’s a ‘howling’?” Smaug asks, managing to look positively innocent without even trying the ‘puppy eyes’ scheme.

Q is still assessing him, his index finger tapping at his chin. He approaches the creature that’s still splayed on James’ bed and falls to his knees so that he can be at the same eye level. The older boy follows him. His trust is not so easily won and the dragon still classifies as a stranger. Which means that Smaug is a possible danger for his too curious friend.

“What do you want to be?” Q asks calmly.

“What?” James says, incredulously. “Why does _he_ gets the chance to choose what he wants to be?”

Q ignores his question in favour of staring intently at Smaug.

The dragon blinks slowly, then his mouth stretches even further into something that might resemble a smile, if it weren’t a combination of macabre-adorable. James is seriously considering which one is more creepy.

“I want to be a dragon!”

Q smirks pleased. “Fair enough.”

James rolls his eyes, and says mockingly, “and here I thought you’d want to be a rainbow unicorn.”

Q chuckles, sensing his friend’s sarcasm.

“I ate the last one three hundred years ago.”

James gapes at him. “When did this became my life?”

“You’re not old enough to be making that kind of statement, James.” Q pats him on the shoulder.

“It’s also too early to be having certain life-changing revelations.” He eyes Smaug darkly, who is unaware of the meaning of it.

“Excellent! Everything’s set up!” Q stands up, looking so pleased with himself, James barely contains his urge to hug his friend. “Now,” he yawns, “the next step would be the actual plotting, but I’m too tired to avoid making mistakes.” He yawns again. “So let’s call it a day and go to sleep.”

Both James and Smaug agree with him, just because Q’s sleepy face is too adorable to say no to (even for Smaug, yes). All three of them climb up into James’ bed, this time Smaug remaining on the covers and at their feet, curled up and snoring before the older kid’s head hits the pillow.

He rearranges himself and Q’s pliant limbs so that their foreheads touch one another and their knees knock together.

James falls asleep after he takes his fair share of assessing Q’s face.

**Rule no. 4 to World Domination:**

**Never forget to _enjoy your morning_ as much as you can**

Nobody came in the next morning sing-songing, “Rise and shine, darlings!”, as would have happened, had they been at Q’s home. Still, the domestic noises from his friend’s house brings Q back to reality. He cracks only one eye open, because neither of them thought last night to pull back the curtains, so that the blinding rays of light wouldn’t actually blind the people inside the room the next morning. He clicks his tongue, but he doesn’t move otherwise.

There are parts of his body, Q isn’t actually capable of feeling right now and he’s wondering why is that. He lifts his head a few inches to inspect the sections of him that go from his chest all the way to his toes.

What he sees is almost surreal, if he wasn’t already at peace with the knowledge that, yes, dragons do exist and yes, his best friend’s previous life form must have been an octopus.

James is splayed three quarters on him -- or better still: the only limb that isn’t using Q’s body as a big pillow (or mattress, depends) is James’ left leg. The same leg is currently engaged in a ruthless battle with Smaug’s teeth and tongue, which is laving James’ foot in lots of drool, while his teeth are lazily chewing it as if it were his favourite toy (or pastime; he isn’t sure if dragons have the patience to keep toys).

Q tries to tap into his well of (already) drying empathy for his best friend and take pity on his current condition, but the waves of laughter that start to shake his body can’t be suppressed for much longer. He bursts out laughing.

Both James and Smaug wake up at once, confused as to what is the commotion, until the older kid’s mind processes the strange signals that his foot is sending (probably for the better part of the morning). Wet, hot, soft, teeth -- mouth?

“What the--” Is all that James musters, because between kicking Smaug’s mouth with his legs to take back the imprisoned one and Q’s shaking body with laughter, he falls off the bed with a muffled “Ow!”.

The only pillow that the two kids have shared is already on the floor, Q’s thrashing movements having sent it there. The covers are entangled around James as if they’ve changed into vicious vines while no one was looking.

“Smaug!” James raises his voice, after he finally manages to sit up properly. He’s glaring at the dragon. “What were you thinking?” He flails his hands frustrated, though they’re still entwined in the sheets. “My foot is pruny now!” He lifts the foot in question and lets it fall on the edge of the bed, showing that, yes, it looks positively pruny-like.

Q falls prey to another fit of laughter when he sees it and he only just managed to calm down.

“And it’s not thanks to your warning beforehand, mind! After all, we don’t have feet that could fall prey to some wild, should-not-exist creature, no, of course not!” James continues, his voice pitched high into the hysterical territory.

Q’s mind absentmindedly supplies him with a suffocating-to-death image that should make him stop.

“You’re not the only victim here!” Smaug growls, small strings of smoke lifting from his nose. “Should I remind you that now I have a foul taste in my mouth? Have you any idea, human, how disgusting that is to me? Having a mouthful of mud would be a symphony to my taste buds compared to the one of that limb of yours!”

“Oh, yeah? Then why don’t you go and dragon down the entire Yorkshire Moors zone, you haughty bastard!”

Nevermind that image. Q falls off the bed, bent in half on his side because his stomach’s muscles hurt from all the constriction they’ve been put through. The same goes for his cheeks and his throat. When he finally stops laughing, James is bent over the edge of his bed, Smaug a few inches behind him.

“Funny, isn’t it?” James asks his friend bitterly.

Q manages to stand up, though he still feels the echo of mild soreness in those muscles.

“Very much so,” he says, smiling good-humoured.

“Especially when your best friend is the victim of some unconscious chewing.”

“Oh, stop brooding over past events,” Q tells him, ruffling the older boy’s hair, while heading for the clothes he left on the other side of the room.

James sits up, frowning. “It’s not that past, Q! It’s been three minutes since I fell victim to a _dragon_ of all things!” he protests, following his friend, but changing his route at the last moment. He opens his closet to get some fresh garments.

“You’re being ridiculous right now, Jay!”

Smaug follows the movements of the two kids avidly, his tail moving from one side to the other on the bed. A fluid, oscillating motion.

“When do I get to burn things?” Smaug asks casually, perched on the edge of the bed as if ready to pounce.

Q and James turn towards him at unison, both half clothed. Their expressions differ by a mile. There’s a gleeful grin on Q’s young features and a mischievous glint in his eyes. James, on the other hand, is soaking in an abject terror at the dragon’s words. Not because he’s afraid of his power to do just that, but because he knows Q’s mind is already coming up with a tone of ideas he could put that power to use.

“Well, you certainly asked the question of the day,” Q replies, putting on his green sleeveless shirt while approaching Smaug.

“Q,” James warns, finishing putting on the last piece of clothing.

The boy turns towards his older friend with an easy smile and flutters a dismissing hand. “Don’t waste your breath, Jay. I’m not thinking of anything dangerous.” Q’s face contorts into a strange mix of dubious, unsure, sheepish expression. “Not much.”

“That’s very reassuring,” James says, heaving a long, suffering sigh.

He doesn’t even bother beating some sense into his friend. Waste of time and breath, as Q so blatantly put it.

“Trust me, it’s not as bad as it sounds.” He pats James’ shoulder, then heads for the door, calling back, “come on, Smaug. There’s a need for your powers!”, as he marches out into the hallway, dragon flying happily behind.

James sighs. “It’s too late to revoke my membership, is it?” he mutters to himself, then jogs to catch up with his friend.

**Rule no. 5 to World Domination:**

**Acknowledge who is your _one true friend_**

“Q, Mr Tanner is throwing worried glances at us and fretting over there,” James whispers, his eyes trained on Smaug, who is having the fun of his life shooting small balls of fire into a series of cans.

They are disposed into a zig-zag manner, which is the most simple way to test the dragon’s ability to hit a target.

Q flutters a hand dismissively, not bothering to take his eyes off Smaug. “He’ll get used to it.”

“I think it’s Smaug that’s making him nervous.”

“Of course it’s him, but this cemetery is the less visited one in the whole neighbourhood, so I’m not going to move my test elsewhere just because of a nervous bystander,” Q replies haughtily while Smaug hits the last can and does a twice backflip in the air.

James looks at Q for a few moments. “You bastard, you actually enjoy teasing the poor man.”

This time, Q does spare a glance in his friend’s direction, unable to suppress the delighted smirk that curls up his lips. “Comes with his job’s description.” He shrugs, and looks down at his open textbook with purple covers, where he kept writing annotations and whatever else he deemed important about the dragon’s performance.

James wouldn’t put it past him, if the only thing he did was scribbling doodles here and there. Not impossible with him.

“Of course,” James says sarcastically. “I bet they purposefully wrote in impossibly small letters that he should expect a little devil with a sweet smile, coming here once in a while to train his fire spitting pet. How could I have forgotten such an important fact!”

Q simply ignores his friend’s antics, because as much as James puts up with Q’s crazy ideas, Q in turn must bear with James being sympathetic about other people’s problems. Well, one of them has to take up this job. Q surely won’t. Smaug turns out to have quite the talent for hitting targets (albeit unmoving ones), with fireballs so perfectly balanced in shape and power, that they pass through the middle of the cans, leaving behind a clean ‘o’ shape.

Q is thrilled, to say the least.

“How was that?” Smaug asks with the kind of smug tone that gets on James’ nerves -- slightly.

The younger kid is still writing, when he says, “unexpected”, in a flat tone.

Smaug cants his head to one side, staring at him.

James sighs, “That means good-ish in his vocabulary.” He blinks, though, when none of them speak. More than once. “Say, why are you giving him such a mediocre mark for his performance? From what I saw, he’s pretty good at what he’s doing… for being the first dragon we ever encountered in our short lives.”

Q looks up at him. “I told you. J.R.R. Tolkien--”

“That’s a book,” James interrupts him.

“Worth considering.” Q blinks slowly, and his friend knows he won’t be able to change his mind no matter what he does. “As far as the library is concerned, there are no other books as accurate as this one.”

“Okay, I understand that, but why the test? Why the small mark?”

Q cocks his head in the same way Smaug did minutes ago. “It was a small test, meant to show me his capacities. I ought to know who I have in my pack, what they can do, since this is a plan that will blossom in the long run.”

The thing James realises in that peculiar moment, looking at his friend’s confident and ardent expression, is that he’ll never be able to leave his side. James will forever feel protective of this little pain in the arse, no matter what. Be it from afar or from this distance, he will always have his back.

“Wait. You made him shoot a couple of empty cans to ascertain his loyalty to you?” James asks, because even though he’s not quick on the uptake, he manages to catch on, anyway. Even if a bit tardy.

“Idiot,” Q chides, closing his notebook. “Each of us is different. Of course the test must match one’s abilities,” he says petulantly, but then mutters, “besides, you make up for all the loyalty I’ll ever need.”

Probably he meant that last sentence to himself. James heard it all the same. The grin that broke on his face was such a sight.

“Wipe it,” Q tells him. They start to head out of the cemetery -- to Mr Tanner’s huge relief.

“Why should I?” James replies, knowing exactly what Q means.

“Because Smaug is too small to carry both of us on his back if you get us into trouble.”

James quirks an eyebrow. “You think we’ll get into trouble because of a grin?”

Q’s curly locks of hair hide most of his face, so his friend is not able to see the smirk, when he says, “your good mood is an amazing magnet for trouble.”

Smaug finds this moment to snort ungracefully. “Humans.”

James stops dead in his tracks and turns towards it -- _him_. “What was that?”

Q turns to look at them with interest. The atmosphere had just started crackling with tension.

“You are so little, yet you create so many problems,” Smaug says, floating mid air. “With just one exhale I could burn down all of those problems.”

Q smirks. “Really? Even if those problems are the humans?”

“Yes.”

James narrows his eyes. “Is that a declaration of war?”

Smaug laughs. He rolls in the air two times, before coming to a stop, fixing his yellowish eyes on James.

“As if I could be persuaded to pick a fight with ants.”

James actually gapes at the unabashed answer Smaug gave them and Q cracks up.

“Q! Are you seriously considering him as part of our group?” he asks.

“Pack,” Q corrects him. “We’re a pack now, Jay.” The younger boy straightens up and looks at Smaug. “Besides, I don’t see why not.”

“What if he turns against us? Surely the mind of a dragon is as fickle as their appearance!”

Q chuckles. “He won’t. He’s having too much fun to forsake us.”

James looks at both of them and sees the exchange of accomplice grins. There’s nothing he can do to change the current situation. He’s helpless, but it’s not like he doesn’t fancy a bit of thrill now and again.

Q, with his unquenched thirst for discovering something new every day, will never be completely rid of James. Well, in this they both agree. Neither of them wants to get separated from the other. They complete each other too perfectly for that to happen in the near future.

“Let’s go,” Q tells them cheerfully.

Mr Tanner watches the unusual group disappear into the horizon and asks himself if he should do something about them. He decides against it. England has other pressing matters he needs to attend to.

For now.

 ****  


**Author's Note:**

> I'm so not sorry for writing 5k+ of silly kid!fic XD


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